Phobia
The fear crept on him slowly, but forcefully. Like a splinter digging into his brain, delving deep into his skin, infesting everything in his body. It was a burning madness, a cold desire, throbbing in his skull as he tried to remember how he had never noticed it before. How it had gone on like this for so long.
Shou's beauty was undeniable. Saga knew that. But with every great thing comes a consequence, and Shou's imperfection was unfortunately more noticeable than the beauty he could so effortlessly put forth. It was there, taunting Saga with it's knowledge that no one else would notice it. That only he could see the flaws in Shou's perfect body. That only he could do something about it.
Saga watched him now. Watched as he buttoned up his jacket with those nimble fingers. Watched as he took a drink from a bottle with those long phalanges curled around the glass. Watched as he fixed his hair, the bones bending and creaking as the skin that covered them stretched to allow movement. They were so long. So thin. So fragile. So ugly.
Every time they moved, Saga could envision it, like tentacles, like spines, sticks and vines. When Shou touched him, he shuddered; like spiders on his skin, crawling across it daintily, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike and strangle and kill. They were ugly. They were dangerous. They were imperfect and faulted and abnormal.
It was a shame. Shou was so beautiful.
Saga hated them for taking away Shou's looks, his character, his charm. When those cruel fingers were hidden under a table, Saga saw an angel. A gift. Perfection. Something untainted and deliciously pure, hidden behind nothing, free to be gazed upon and fawned over.
Shou needed help. He couldn't see it. No one could see it. If only he could know how gorgeous he would look without those ten little imperfections, those ten ugly sticks of grotesque skin and bone and nerves that tainted his body. If only he could see. But no, only Saga could. And that knowledge grew in his mind until it overwhelmed him. Until he couldn't eat properly. He lost sleep. His mind was constantly turning around options. His eyes saw nothing but Shou's flawed beauty.
He cared for Shou. He loved him as a brother, as a band mate, as a friend. And when Shou needed help, he would provide it without complaint. He would do anything for Shou, no matter the costs. And this time, the cost would be great.
But he was sure that Shou would understand.
---
Chloroform did the trick perfectly. It took Saga several tries to obtain it, and even more tries to find Shou alone and to ensure they wouldn't be bothered.
Shou would never know it was him. And when his body fell limp in Saga's arms, back against chest, Saga smiled, laying him gently on the floor.
Today, he thought, taking out a pair of pliers and a small hacksaw, today, you will know beauty, Shou.
---
"The nurse told me I have another two days, and I can leave," Shou sighed. "I don't think time could pass any slower."
Hiroto was beside him, his face screwed up with the effort of holding back tears in front of Shou; he was trying to be strong. Shou meant the world to him, and to see him broken and confined to this bed was more than Hiroto could bare. Saga had let him cry into his shoulder for almost an hour last night, but without complaining. He wasn't irritated. He was curious.
Sure, Shou's hands were now lacking those long thin fingers, but Saga was certain that the pros outweighed the cons. Shou was so beautiful now. His body was beautiful without those ungodly appendages of skin and bone. Why couldn't Hiroto see that?
When Hiroto couldn't choke out any response or words to the helpless vocalist on the bed, Shou smiled carefully at him, about to reach out to comfort the boy when he seemed to remember that he now lacked any touch to comfort Hiroto with.
At that, Hiroto burst into tears again, and Tora immediately got up to steer him out of the room, whispering soft words to the wailing boy. Shou's arm flopped uselessly to the side as he watched them go, Hiroto's hysterical sobs and babbles reaching his ears and pulling harshly at his heartstrings. The cries could be heard far down the hall in the uncomfortable silence of the room, and it became too much for Nao as well.
"I'm going to make sure he's okay," he said lightly, laying a hand on Shou's knee momentarily before leaving the room as well, closing the door behind him without looking back.
Shou sighed and leant his head back against his pillow, shutting his eyes.
Saga cocked his head, studying the angel before him. He looked so sad. So hurt. Saga hadn't counted on making the other members so upset -- in fact, he was utterly confused at their reactions -- and it was clearing affecting Shou. Streams of tears were already falling from his closed eyes, though he made no move to stop them, and Saga felt a twinge of pain at the sight.
Nothing so beautiful should ever hurt so much.
He moved over without hesitation and took Shou in his arms, pressing their bodies together. Shou's reaction was immediate, and his body gave a great lurch as he fought to hold back his sobs. But Saga held him, his head on Shou's shoulder as he drank in the perfection of the vocalist's body. The way his hair smelled. The touch of his skin. The sound of his voice.
All of it so untainted.
Finally, Shou took a rasping breath and returned Saga's embrace, wrapping himself around the bassist.
"Thank you, Saga. Thank you for being there for me."
But unknown to Shou, Saga had stiffened. His eyes were wide behind Shou's shoulder. His breath hitched and his heart raced.
When had Shou's arms gotten so long?
---
AN: Check out the gorgeous drawing for this fic by rookie_cherii :D